


I Knew You Were Trouble When You Walked In

by novemberhush



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: Is Harvey ready to fight for his man?, Is Mike ready to be fought for?, It's me and I love fluff so you can probably guess the answer to those two questions, M/M, No idea where the boxing motif came from, Wise Louis, Wise but sad Donna, marvey, pining Harvey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-11-16
Packaged: 2018-08-31 08:05:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8570851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/novemberhush/pseuds/novemberhush
Summary: Harvey Specter has been bobbing and weaving for years, trying to dodge the feelings for his protégé, Mike Ross, that have been building since the day they met. But when love has him on the ropes and backed into a corner can a few words of wisdom from two old friends convince him to come out fighting? And what will Mike say if he does? Ding, ding, seconds out...





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! Sorry, I've been waiting for ages to use that title and when the Marvey Fic Challenge 'Flashback' came out I saw my chance and went for it! Thanks to Sairyn for the beta and to everyone who was so kind about this one on tumblr. As always I own none of the characters, films, etc, mentioned herein. My life would be very different if I did, I assure you! Hope you enjoy!

“Just FYI, Harvey,” Louis announced, no preamble whatsoever, strolling into Harvey’s office and plopping himself down on the couch, “you’re not getting a 2-for-1 deal on your speech. This is something I intend doing only once, so we’re doing it right. That means I’m not accepting Mike’s leftovers. Louis Litt doesn’t wear hand-me-downs. Well, not after that debacle when Mom made me wear Esther’s old … never mind. What I’m saying is, I don’t do sloppy seconds, so no rehashing whatever you say in your speech as Mike’s best man in your speech as mine, are we clear?”

  
“Well, good evening to you too, Louis. As usual, you’re making about as much sense as an ashtray on a motorcycle. Do you maybe want to start this conversation over again and fill me in on what exactly it is you’re jabbering on about?”

  
Harvey didn’t even look up from his paperwork. He was meeting Mike for a drink later and wanted to get done as quickly as possible so he would have time to swing home for a shower and change of clothes beforehand. He tried not to think about why he was acting like he was going on a date and not just meeting his best friend to shoot the shit and toss back a few.

  
Sighing dramatically, Louis cocked his head to one side, sending a well-practised expression of longsuffering tolerance Harvey’s way. “We’re talking about my wedding, of course, and your duty as best man to write me the best goddamn, _uniquely tailored to me_ speech out there.”

  
Harvey stopped writing mid-sentence and finally looked up at the other man. “Wait … you’re getting married?? Since when? And who the hell to??”

  
“Damn straight I’m getting married! Are you really trying to tell me you hadn’t heard?! Donna must be slipping.”

  
“I heard that and I _will_ remember it!” Donna’s voice interjected as she walked in and handed Harvey a file he had asked for before turning on her expensive designer heel and leaving again.

  
“Okay, can you please serve whatever it is you came here to dish up already and let me get back to work, Louise?”

  
The almost palpable happiness emanating from Louis gave him the forbearance to rise above the jab at his masculinity.

  
“I’m getting married! To the most beautiful, cultured, elegant woman in the world!” he preened.

  
“I’ve told you before, Louis, Kate Middleton is off the market.”

  
Louis rolled his eyes but didn’t rise to the bait.

  
"To Tara! I’m getting married to Tara! And you’re gonna be my best man!“

  
“Tara? That’s the architect, right?”

  
“You bet your sweet ass it is. Smart, talented, sexy. I’ll be damned if I know what she sees in me. I’m really punching above my weight this time, Harvey, and I don’t know how I got so lucky! Maybe the universe just finally got tired of using me as its punching bag and decided to go beat on someone else,“ Louis mused.

  
“Louis, I…” Harvey began, voice low, cautious, wary of causing pain. Louis had been on the receiving end of that tone enough times from enough people to instantly go on the defensive. Springing up from the couch he stalked over to the desk and Harvey got the distinct feeling he was about to get Litt up.

  
“No, Harvey! You already agreed to be my best man when I thought I was going to marry Sheila. Well, that might not have worked out, but we still have a verbal agreement! I’ll call Donna as a witness if I have to! You agreed to be my best man and I’m holding you to it!”

  
“Louis, I’m not trying to get out of anything, but are you seriously getting married to this woman? You’ve known her for, what, a month? If even. Are you sure this is a wise move?”

  
“Jesus, Harvey, you can’t stand it, can you? To see me happy for once? See me get the girl and ride off into the sunset with her? Why do you always have to rain on my parade, huh?”

  
“Goddamn it, Louis, I’m not trying to piss on your bonfire, but you only just met the woman, for Christ’s sake! I’m trying to look out for you here!”

  
“I don’t _need_ you looking out for me, Harvey! I need you to support me and be happy for me. And to stand by my side as I marry the woman I love and am going to raise a child with!”

  
Harvey leaned back in his chair, eyeing his friend (yeah, Louis was his friend, he could admit it, if only to himself) and colleague speculatively.

  
“Oh, so that’s it? You knocked her up? This isn’t the 50s anymore, Louis. You don’t have to marry her. You can still be a father to your child.“

  
"I didn’t ‘knock her up’, as you so charmingly put it. Tara’s carrying her ex’s baby. And I’m okay with that. I know I don’t ‘have to’ marry her, Harvey. I want to. Don’t you get it?! I love Tara and I want to raise this child with her, as her husband.”

  
“It’s not your kid? Well, I guess you do do sloppy seconds, after all."

  
Harvey hated himself the second the words passed his lips, and from the glare Louis levelled at him, he did too. Harvey didn’t blame him. He braced himself for the punch he knew he’d be throwing if the situation was reversed and Louis had just said to him what Harvey had. He was willing to give him the freebie. He knew he had it coming.

  
But Louis merely leaned in closer, planting his fists on Harvey’s desk, and not his chin. Turns out he didn’t need to lift a finger against Harvey. The next words out of his mouth hit harder than any fist ever could.

  
"Haven’t you ever loved someone, Harvey? I mean, _really_ loved them? Knew there wasn’t anything you wouldn’t do for them, to protect them and take care of them? I knew the first time I met her that’s how I felt about Tara. Once I’d found her I never wanted to be without her again. Haven’t you ever felt that way about someone? Knew they were special from the moment you met them?”

  
Harvey swallowed thickly, his mind flashing back to an afternoon at the Chilton Hotel almost six years previously. Unable to speak or even meet Louis’ eye anymore, he looked away and nodded mutely.

  
Straightening up, Louis smoothed down the front of his jacket.

  
“Well, then. You better get started on your speech, hadn’t you? I expect it to be the best goddamn speech since Michael Douglas’ State of the Union address in ‘The American President’.“

  
Harvey snorted, despite himself. "I’m not sure my writing skills are up to competing with Sorkin’s, but I’ll give it my best shot.”

  
“You don’t need to be Sorkin, Harvey. Just make me sound cool in front of Tara and I’ll be happy. And don’t tell any embarrassing stories!”

  
“Now, where’s the fun in that?” Harvey jested with a grin before sobering again.  
“There’s no talking you out of this, is there?”

  
“Nope. This is it for me. This is my last chance and I’m not going to blow it.”

  
“Then I guess we’re doing this. Looks like you got yourself a best man.”

  
Harvey stood up, extending his hand. Ignoring the gesture completely, Louis surged forward and enveloped him in a bear hug that threatened to cut off his circulation instead. Harvey found himself hoping the lovestruck lawyer was a little more gentle in his embraces with the future Mrs. Litt.

  
“Thanks, Harvey. I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

  
“Yeah, yeah. Keep your hands to yourself, Louise, or I’m cancelling the strippers for the bachelor party.”

  
Louis finally released his hold and Harvey once again reached out to shake his hand.  
“I’m sorry for what I said, Louis. I had no right. And I didn’t mean it.”

  
Returning the handshake, Louis graciously accepted the apology.

  
“Forget it. You can make it up to me by getting me an appointment with René so we can get fitted for the wedding suits.“

  
"Sure, no problem,” Harvey said, settling in his chair again, eager to get back to work so he could get out of there and go see the person _he’d_ do anything for.

  
“And I am happy for you, Louis,” he added. “If this is really what you want, I’ll support you any way I can.”

  
"Thanks, Harvey.”

  
Louis started towards the door, but hesitated a moment before he opened it. Harvey glanced up, wondering what the problem was now.

  
“Was there something else you wanted, Louis?”

  
Louis turned and Harvey watched as he tried to gather his words.

  
“Anytime today, Louise. I’m kinda busy here, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  
Harvey had got where he was by being able to read people. Right then he could read the exact moment Louis screwed up his courage and decided to say what was on his mind.

  
“Tell him, Harvey. Tell him before it’s too late.”

  
Harvey felt himself blanch. His normally unshakable poker face deserted him for a second. He knew the other man hadn’t missed the momentary lapse, but he pulled himself together and tried to brazen it out.

  
“Tell who what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  
Louis just looked at him, 'who do you think you’re shitting?’ written disconcertingly all over his face. When he spoke again, though, his voice was soft and the tone akin to the one Harvey himself had used earlier when trying to be mindful of Louis’ feelings. There was also a note of something too damn close to pity in it for Harvey’s liking. So damn close it made him cringe.

  
“You know exactly who and what I’m talking about, Harvey. I’m pretty sure anyone who’s ever seen the two of you together knows. In fact, the only person who I suspect _doesn’t_ know is him. Because he’s so damn in awe of the great Harvey Specter he can’t believe it’s possible you’d actually feel that way about him. But you do. So tell him, Harvey. Before he does something that’s gonna end up making three people miserable in the long run - you, him, her, all of you.”

  
With that, Louis made his exit, and Harvey found himself heading over to where he kept the scotch. Looks like he was getting a head start on Mike tonight.

  
"He’s right, you know,” Donna said from the doorway. “And that’s not going to make him wrong,” she added, pointing at the drink in his hand.

  
“Et tu, Donna? You been listening in over the intercom again?”

  
“Yeah, and Louis is right. Maybe it’s time for you to cross your own Rubicon, Caesar.” Donna stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, ensuring privacy.

  
“Donna…”

  
“No, Harvey! I’ve sat back and I’ve said nothing. For six years now, I’ve watched you with him, watched the two of you together, and I’ve said nothing.” She paused, and for the second time in the space of a few minutes Harvey watched as one of his closest friends struggled to say something to him.

  
“Fix me one of those, will you?” Donna perched on Harvey’s desk as he poured the requested drink and brought it to her. Taking a sip, she gathered her nerve and her words, before continuing.

  
“Six years. And I never said a word. You know why?” She glanced up at him then quickly down again, apparently finding whatever answer she sought in his face.

  
“Yeah, you know why,” she smiled, a hard, tight little smile. “Because I still held out hope for us, Harvey, for you and me. But I know now that’s never going to happen. And do you know how I know?”

  
Harvey ducked his head and shook it twice, the pain clear on her face too much for him to look at.

  
“Because I saw the way you fought for him. I saw the way you fought for _Mike_. When he was in prison there was nothing you wouldn’t have done to get him out. And it wasn’t just guilt or some feeling of responsibility for his being in there. It was love, and I finally had to admit that to myself. I knew all along, of course. I’m Donna, I know everything. Sometimes I just wish I didn’t.” She shot Harvey a wan look and a dry smile.

  
“I knew because you didn’t just fight for him when he was in prison. You’ve been fighting for him since day one. Since the day he tripped into that interview and dropped a briefcase of weed at your feet and you thought, 'who the hell is this kid?’. But watching you the past few weeks I couldn’t deny it to myself anymore. And you can’t either. You’ve fought for him every day for the past six years, Harvey. So fight for him now! _Really_ fight for him! For yourself!”

  
“Goddamn it, Donna, don’t you think I want to?! I can’t. There’s Rachel, and …”

  
“There’s always going to be some reason not to, Harvey! But isn’t the possibility he might feel the same about you reason enough to try?”

  
“I … I don’t even know how I’d begin to …”

  
“By letting him know you’re _in_ the fight! Right now he thinks you’re in his corner, but that’s it. He doesn’t know you’re actually out there in the ring, fighting your heart out. He doesn’t realise you’re one of the contenders for _his_ heart! So _make_ him realise! Tell him, Harvey. Tell him tonight. Before this fight he doesn’t know you’re even in drags out, you end up getting your heart beaten to a pulp and Rachel wins on points. And all because you didn’t have the guts to fight for him when it really mattered. Because you couldn’t say three little words. You’ve never walked away from a fight in your life, Harvey. Don’t start now. Show him you’re willing to go the distance. Don’t throw in the towel. Not yet, not without giving Mike a chance to call it first.”

  
“Remind me not to let you watch that 'Rocky’ box set again anytime soon,” Harvey quipped, but there was no bite to it.

  
“I was always more of a 'Raging Bull’ woman myself,” Donna retorted, finishing her scotch and sashaying to the door. “And now, my work here is done. I’ve kicked your ass, shared my wisdom with you, and looked fabulous doing it. I’ve classed up this joint enough for one day. So, now I’m going home. And you,” she fixed Harvey with a reproving look, “are going home, putting on your tightest, sexiest Henley, the cream one that really makes your eyes pop, and those jeans that make your ass look amazing - you know the ones I’m talking about, don’t pretend you don’t - and you’re gonna come out fighting. And Mike Ross? He’s not going to know what hit him.”

  
“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, is that it?” Harvey enquired, his glass set aside as he feigned throwing a few punches and his feet did a passable Ali Shuffle.

  
“Something like that, Golden Boy,” she smiled, indulging the film fan, the fight fan and the little boy in this man she loved and knew she would never now have, at least not in the way she truly desired.

  
“Nice reference, Lorna Moon.”

  
“Well, Stanwyck was a kick-ass redhead long before I was.”

  
“She’s got nothing on you,” Harvey fawned, receiving an eye roll for his trouble.

  
“Yeah, yeah, flattery will get you nowhere with me, Specter.”

They fell silent then, just smiling at each other, a little sadly perhaps, both wondering what might have been in a different universe. One in which one Michael James Ross hadn’t crashed into a hotel suite and into their lives, on the run from the cops and a lifetime of bad luck and worse decisions. But that was the universe they lived in and he _had_ crashed in. Into the suite, into their lives, and into Harvey’s heart. Harvey knew there was no wondering about that. It was a done deal. The truth was his heart had went down for the count the very first moment Mike had hit him with those eyes all those years ago in a suite at the Chilton Hotel.

  
“Thanks, Donna. And I’m sorry. About everything. About us,” Harvey murmured, breaking the silence before the redhead slipped away for the night.

  
“I know. It’s okay. Not even you can negotiate your heart into feeling something it won’t. Believe me, if I thought there was even the slightest chance left for us at all I’d come out swinging, and Mike Ross, or anyone else for that matter, wouldn’t stand a hope in hell.”

  
From the unmistakable determination in her voice, the steely glint in her eye and the defiant tilt of her chin, Harvey didn’t doubt it.

  
“Don’t worry, I’m not going to go all, “I coulda been a contender” on you, if that’s what you were thinking,” she went on, her tone lightening, if only a little, as she gave him her best Brando in ‘On The Waterfront’ impression.

  
“No, I’m bowing out gracefully. I’m hanging up my gloves, Harvey. Because from the moment you met him, no one else ever stood a chance against the kid. Not me, not Scottie, Zoe, Esther, no one. Mike 'The Baby-Faced Assassin’ Ross took on all comers and scored a TKO every time and didn’t even know he’d stepped in the ring.”

  
“Do you really think I have a chance, Donna? Do you think there’s any way he might feel for me even a fraction of what I feel for him?”

  
“There’s only one way to find out for sure, champ. But, yeah, I think there’s a chance. I think there’s a pretty good chance. Because I’ve watched him for the past six years too. Watched the two of you dance round each other, sparring every now and then, but neither ever having the heart to deliver the knockout blow. And in those six years I’ve never seen him look at Rachel, or anyone else, the way he looks at you.”

  
“And how’s that?”

  
Donna rolled her eyes and shrugged, throwing her hands up in the air in a gesture of exaggerated annoyance Harvey knew she didn’t really feel.

  
“I don’t know! Like you’re his birthday, the Fourth of July, Christmas morning and New Year’s Eve all rolled into one. Like you hung the moon and painted the stars, just for him. Like the sun shines out of your as…”

  
“Okay there, LaMotta, simmer down, I get the picture,” Harvey interrupted.

  
“Good! Now, go get your shorts on, Stallion, and hit this kid with all you got.”

  
“Stallion?”

  
“Would you prefer Sugar Ray Specter?” Donna winked and returned the smirk Harvey sent in her direction.

  
When Donna had gone Harvey finished his drink and packed up for the evening too, knowing he’d never be able to concentrate on wrapping up his paperwork now.

  
Louis and Donna’s words played in his head on a loop. Was he genuinely that transparent? Did everyone _really_ know how he felt about Mike? Everyone except Mike himself. So much for the famous Harvey Specter poker face.

  
Of course, thinking about it now, looking back on everything they’d gone through together, even if it wasn’t written all over his face Harvey knew his actions alone were enough to have given him away. Everything he’d done for Mike, everything he’d been _willing_ to do, it all spoke to the true depth of his feelings for the kid.

  
Yet _still_ Mike hadn’t picked up on what was going on. Mike, the one who was supposed to be good at feelings, at the whole emotions crap. How could he not have seen how Harvey felt about him?

  
The answer came in a blinding flash of inspiration that made Harvey simultaneously so sad and so angry he didn’t know if he wanted to cry or hit something. Both, probably. Mike hadn’t seen it because he _couldn’t_ see it. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe he was worth loving that much, as much as Harvey loves him. And Harvey _does_ love him, with everything he has in him. With that laser-focussed intensity and soul deep, single-minded passion he puts into every aspect of his life, but never more so than when it comes to Mike.

  
Mike, who probably told himself Harvey would have done all these things for anyone and convinced himself that Rachel’s pale, insipid, timid affection was all he deserved. Well, Harvey was about to disabuse him of that notion! As he called Ray to come pick him up, Harvey knew what he had to do - it was time to lace up his gloves and let Mike Ross know he was in this fight!

  
He was just letting himself into his condo, still formulating his plan of action (how exactly _do_ you tell your engaged best friend and former protégé that you’ve been falling deeper and deeper in love with him every day since the day you met?!) when his cellphone rang. Harvey’s heart leapt in his chest when he caught sight of the name on the caller ID.

  
“Mike? Hey, we still on for tonight?” Harvey cleared his throat, wincing at how much like a hopeful teenage girl talking to her crush he sounded. “Mike? You there?”

  
“What? Um … Yeah, yeah, I’m here.” He sounded distracted and Harvey instantly wondered what was wrong. Before he could ask, Mike started talking again.

  
“I just don’t feel like hitting a bar tonight, being surrounded by a bunch of people, you know? I had enough of that in Danbury.“

  
"Sure. Sure thing, Mike,” Harvey muttered, heart sinking, convinced Mike was calling to cancel. Of course. He probably wanted to spend the evening with his gorgeous fiancée, not his former boss. His former _male_ boss.

  
“So I was hoping we could just stay in. At your place, I mean. I don’t know, I’m sure you’ve got some good booze tucked away somewhere, or I could stop and buy some on the way. We could maybe order in some Thai or Chinese or something and just veg out in front of the TV. I haven’t watched 'Rocky’ in a while, we could…”

  
Harvey listened to Mike ramble on for a bit, torn between grinning all over his face at the comfortable familiarity of Mike babbling and worrying about what he _wasn’t_ saying. Because Harvey knew there was something underneath all of Mike’s words. Something he was worried about and Harvey never wanted him to have to worry again.

  
“Hey … Mike … Mike. _Mike!_ ” Harvey finally managed to cut in.

  
“Sorry. I’m sorry. Yeah?”

  
“It’s fine, we don’t have to go out. I kinda wanted to talk to you about something anyway and it would probably be better said in private.”

  
“Really? 'Cos I kinda wanted to talk to you about something too.”

  
Harvey’s heart leapt again as the thought crossed his mind maybe Mike wanted to talk about the same thing he did, but he quickly quashed the idea. No sense getting his hopes up to have them crash and burn if it turned out Mike simply wanted to ask him for advice on where to go from here with regards to a career or what he should wear to his wedding.

  
“Then get your ass over here. You don’t need to bring anything but yourself. I got the rest covered.”

  
“Okay, I’ll be there within the hour. And, Harvey?”

  
“Yeah, Mike?”

  
“Thanks.”

  
“For what?”

  
“Everything.”

  
Mike hung up before Harvey could get another word in. He stared at the phone in his hand for longer than he cared to admit, running over everything Mike had said in his head, hoping to find a clue as to what he _hadn’t_ said.

  
Finally deciding he’d just have to wheedle it out of the kid when he got there, he ducked into the shower. Afterwards, he took Donna’s advice on the clothes and followed his gut on the cologne, putting on a little of the one he’d been wearing the first afternoon he and Mike met. Mike must have already known it or found out the name of it somehow because he had given Harvey a bottle of it every year since on the anniversary of the day they met and Harvey had taken the biggest gamble of his life. He mocked the kid mercilessly for the sentimental gesture, of course, but secretly he knew that date was seared on his soul for eternity. Forever separating his life into two distinct parts - ‘Before Mike’ and ‘After Mike’. And no matter what might have happened since, Harvey knew he would never want to go back to ‘Before’.

  
As for the cologne itself, it was Harvey’s favourite, and he could be wrong, but he had a feeling Mike liked it too. He certainly always seemed to stand just that little bit closer to Harvey every time he wore it. Which once he noticed the effect it seemed to have on Mike, became almost every day he knew they’d be seeing each other. Maybe it was all in his imagination or a case of wishful thinking but it couldn’t hurt tonight, Harvey figured, as he recapped the bottle. A hesitant knock at the door, so low he almost missed it, drew him from his thoughts and with one last look in the mirror he made his way through the condo to let Mike in.

  
Shit, he hadn’t seen the kid look this scared since, well, since forever. Not when he dropped a briefcase full of weed at Harvey’s feet. Not any one of the several dozen times he thought his secret had been discovered. Not even when he’d been heading to prison, or indeed once he’d experienced the reality of incarceration for himself. No, Harvey had never seen Mike look this scared before in his life. And it downright terrified him.

  
“Jesus, Mike, you look like shit.”

  
Mike laughed, but there was no humour to it, just a cold, hard, mirthless edge.

  
“Nice to see you too, Harvey.”

  
“Save it, wiseass. You know that’s not what I meant. What is it? What’s wrong?”

  
Mike said nothing, just lowered his head, then looked up at Harvey again, then looked _anywhere_ but at Harvey.

  
“What’s happened, Mike? Damn it, you’re scaring me here! Tell me!”

  
“Can I at least come in before you start giving me the third degree? I’d really prefer not to do this in front of all your neighbours.”

  
“Yeah, sure, come in.” Harvey stepped back to allow Mike entry. “Do what?” he pressed once they were both inside, choosing to ignore, at least for now, the rather nice brown leather overnight bag his guest had brought with him.

  
Part of a set of luggage Harvey had bought for him to take on a business trip to Miami a couple of years ago if Harvey wasn’t mistaken. And, yes, he had picked it out and purchased it himself, not palmed it off on Donna or some personal shopper. More proof, if it were needed, of how special Mike was to him. The only person Harvey Specter ever shopped for personally was Harvey Specter. Until this blue-eyed wunderkind showed up, that is.

  
“Huh?”

  
Harvey rolled his eyes. “Eloquent as ever, I see. Good job you weren’t around 400 years ago. Shakespeare would have been quaking in his boots.”

  
Mike made an exaggerated laughing noise. “Yeah, and Lenny Bruce just called from beyond the grave. He says don’t give up your day job.” He tossed Harvey a smirk and looked slightly more relaxed. Harvey couldn’t resist throwing him one back.

  
“All right, Chuckles, spill. What’s going on? What did you not want to discuss in front of my neighbours? Is it that rash again? Because I’m told you can get cream for that.”

  
This time it was Mike who rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you definitely missed your calling as a stand-up, Specter.”

  
They both grinned, but the grins faded as they locked eyes and held the gaze. Harvey felt once again the effect those eyes had on his heartbeat. In the silence of the condo he wouldn’t have been surprised if Mike could hear it from where he was standing.

  
_Jesus, Specter, say something! Do something! Don’t just stand here devouring him with your eyes!_

  
But it was Mike who found the will, or the courage, to speak first.

  
“I’ve left her, Harvey. I’ve left Rachel.”

  
Harvey had more than once heard people say they were stunned and thought he had some approximation of what they meant by that. Right now though, he knew he’d never even come _close_ to comprehending that feeling before. He actually felt the moment his knees went weak and someone released a kaleidoscope of butterflies in his stomach.

  
“What? Why? For good?” The words tripped out of him faster than a kid out the door on the last day of school. “I mean, you have? Really?”

  
“Yeah, I have. Really. For good. As for the why, I’m not sure you’re gonna like it.” Mike swallowed, clearly nervous, but refused to drop eye contact. He took a step closer to Harvey then thought better of it and retreated three back. Harvey found himself moving in to bridge the gap.

  
“Try me,” he murmured, voice hoarse even to his own ears.

  
Mike was practically shaking now and it was all Harvey could do not to reach out and take him in his arms.

  
“I left her because…” Mike couldn’t finish his sentence, something like a sob cutting off the words.

  
Finally dropping his eyes from Harvey’s he took a few deep breaths, bowing his head once again. Harvey clenched his hands into fists to stop them grabbing hold of the man in front of him. The man he’d watched grow from a screw-up, dropout, slacker, stoner kidult, wasting his time and his potential, into the finest man he’s ever known. Loyal, caring, smart. The man he loves with everything he has in him and who he knows if he took him in his arms right now he’d never let go. So he had to hold back.

  
When Mike raised his eyes to Harvey’s again they were brimming with tears, blue topaz shimmering in a soft, summer rain. Harvey couldn’t be sure something rather like a whimper didn’t pass his own lips at the sight.

  
“I left her because you shouldn’t marry someone when you’re in love with someone else.”

  
Harvey’s heart skipped a beat. _Could it be…?_ He hardly dared to hope, afraid that same heart was about to get splattered all over the canvas. Still, he was no coward, and he had to know. Either way, he had to know. If you wanted to win the prize, you had to step into the ring. And after six years of putting on a show and dancing around and trash talking, Harvey was finally ready to do just that.

  
“Who are you in love with, Mike?”

  
The tears began to spill over and cascade down Mike’s pale cheeks. He looked at Harvey, eyes pleading, beseeching.

  
“You know who, Harvey. Don’t make me say it if you don’t feel the same.”

  
Harvey cast his mind back to a minute ago when he thought he had finally understood what people meant when they said they were stunned. Yeah, he’d understood _nothing_. This moment, right now, with Mike basically telling him he loved him, this went far beyond stunning. Trying to process everything he’d just heard Harvey was, for probably the first time in his life, totally, actually, literally, lost for words.

  
“Harvey? Harvey, say something for Christ’s sake!” Mike sounded agitated, scared, and maybe a little shell-shocked at his own admission.

  
_Say something?_ Harvey wanted to, he really did. But the only words flitting through his mind just then didn’t belong to him. Instead it was the words of Smokin’ Joe Frazier his brain chose to conjure up - “You can map out a fight plan, or a life plan, but when the action starts it may not go the way you planned, and you’re down to your reflexes.” _Well, ain’t that the truth_ , some distant part of his brain whispered.

  
_Down to your reflexes._ Harvey prided himself on his reflexes (okay, so he prided himself on a lot of things), but Mike’s words had floored him. He was rooted to the spot, unable to move or even speak. Somehow all he was capable of at that moment was looking at Mike and smiling. This kid! This goddamn kid! He had stumbled into a hotel suite and Harvey’s life six years previously - and just like that, almost every plan Harvey had ever made became contingent on his happiness and wellbeing. He considered Mike in almost every move he made. Whatever life plan he had had before went out the window the moment this kid walked in the door. And now he had beaten Harvey to the punch just when he had finally come up with his own fight plan!

  
Harvey couldn’t help the deep chuckle that bubbled up out of him, amused, bemused, and most of all, _happy_.

  
Unfortunately, Mike read it a little differently. Anxiety clouded his mind and twisted what he saw in front of him; Harvey, apparently laughing at his confession.

  
“Oh, screw you, Harvey! I knew it was stupid to hope, but I thought at least you’d let me down easy. But if you’re just gonna laugh at me, screw you!”

  
Harvey reeled at the outburst of unchecked emotion. He’d always known Mike wore his heart on his sleeve and could be hotheaded and impulsive at times, but he had never seen him this riled up before. He knew Mike had misinterpreted his reaction to the confession of feelings and that he needed to clear up the misunderstanding immediately. But as he fumbled to find the right words ( _You only need three_ , his brain was screaming at him), Mike ploughed on with his tirade, obviously employing anger in an attempt to bury feelings of hurt at Harvey’s perceived rejection of him.

  
“Do you know how hard it was to come here tonight and tell you this? Do you know how long I’ve struggled with these feelings for you? I broke Rachel’s heart, for Christ’s sake! I broke it for you, goddamn it! Doesn’t that mean anything to you? She was devastated, Harvey! I completely pulled the rug out from under her. I took her dream of the fairytale wedding and the happily ever after and flushed it down the toilet. But at least Harvey Specter got a good laugh out of it.”

  
Mike pushed past him to leave, face burning, hands scrubbing angrily at the tears that refused to stop falling. Harvey’s heart wrenched at the sight and his hitherto much vaunted reflexes finally kicked in. He reached out at last and took hold of Mike, one strong hand on each bicep.

  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a minute, hotshot! Where do you think you’re going?”

  
“To find a hole to curl up and die of embarrassment in,” Mike sulked, lips pouting.

  
Harvey smiled again, finding that pout adorable, but in dire need of being kissed away.

  
“I’m sorry I laughed, Mike. I wasn’t making fun of you, I swear. And of course I’m sorry for Rachel, but I’m not sorry you ended it. It was the right thing to do, for both of you. You weren’t right for each other. Eventually you would have both had to have faced that. It was better to do it now, before marriage, or maybe even kids, complicated matters. It’ll hurt for a while, but she’ll get over it. Someday her prince will come. It just won’t be you, that’s all.”

  
“Please believe me when I say I wasn’t getting some twisted kick out of watching you wrestle with everything you said to me and everything you had to say to Rachel,” Harvey entreated.

  
“I know it couldn’t have been easy, Mike. Finding the courage to end things with Rachel and then putting yourself out there with me. Putting everything on the line like that, not knowing how I’d react. It took guts. Guts I’ve been trying to find for far too long now. It wasn’t you I was laughing at, Mike, it was myself. I’ve been such a chickenshit all these years. Too afraid to go after what I really wanted. Then tonight, when I was finally ready to man up and fight for what I want, you go and beat me to it! Donna used all this boxing terminology on me earlier and suddenly here I was thinking, _he beat me to the punch! The great, previously undefeated Harvey Specter, and Mike 'The Baby-Faced Assassin’ Ross beat me to the goddamn punch!”_

  
“Hey! Less of the baby-faced! It’s not my fault I’ve got soft features!”

  
“Whatever, Tiny Tears, you don’t like the moniker you can take it up with Donna.”

  
“I think I’d rather go twelve rounds with Mike Tyson.”

  
“You’d probably fare better,” Harvey agreed, taking a step closer so their bodies were almost flush against each other.

  
“Wait, what was this thing you were psyching yourself up to fight for? What punch did I beat you to?” Mike’s eyes shone with hope, but there was still a trace of misgiving there, as if he couldn’t quite believe he was putting two and two together correctly. Harvey was about to validate more than just his arithmetic.

  
Saying nothing, Harvey brought his hand to Mike’s damp face and gently brushed away the tears that still clung to it.

  
“Breathe, slugger,” he whispered, as he felt Mike go rigid at the contact, not daring to breathe lest he break the spell and wake up to find it was all a dream.

  
“I’m not sure I can,” Mike whispered back just as quietly, brain frantically memorising the exact feel of Harvey’s hands on him in case he never got to feel them like that again. Hands that were now cupping his face so, so tenderly it made him want to start crying all over again, but for a very different reason this time.

  
“I might be able to help you out there.”

  
“Yeah?”

  
“Yeah. You might not know this about me, Mike, but I’m a certified First Aider.”

  
“You are?”

  
“Uh-huh. Jessica made me go on a course and everything.”

  
“I see. And what exactly did you do to earn that consideration? And by ‘consideration’ I mean ‘punishment’.”

  
“Who says I did anything?”

  
“Please,” Mike laughed, “this is me you’re talking to.”

  
“Okay, there may have been a slight misunderstanding between Louis and myself regarding the laxative effect of some chocolate I gifted him with.”

  
“Oh God, don’t tell me anymore! I don’t want to know!” Mike snorted.

  
“You really don’t. So let’s drop the subject. Now, what were we talking about before?”

  
“I believe you were going to tell me what they taught you to do on this course in the event of someone apparently forgetting how to breathe?”

  
“Well, I don’t recall all the details but I seem to remember it involved mouth-to-mouth…” Harvey smirked, taking half a second to appreciate the way Mike’s eyes widened before he pulled him in a little closer.

  
“Maybe a demonstration would help bring it all back. You know, muscle memory, and all that,” Mike croaked, voice thick with want.

  
“Couldn’t hurt to try,” Harvey rasped, wrapping his arms around this incredible man he had loved, well, pretty much from the beginning if he was being honest, and kissing him with all he had. Mike, for his part, responded beautifully, kissing back with a ferocity that took _Harvey’s_ breath away.

  
“Wow, that was some demonstration,” Mike panted against Harvey’s lips when they came up for air. “But I thought it was supposed to help with breathing. Because I gotta tell you, I’m feeling pretty breathless right about now.”

  
“Well, it’s been a while since that course,” Harvey panted back. “Maybe I’m rusty. I should probably practise my technique,” he muttered, swooping in and capturing Mike’s lips in another fierce kiss.

  
“God, you taste as good as you smell,” Mike breathed in Harvey’s ear when they finally broke for air again. “And you smell phenomenal. _Phe._ _Nom. En. Al._ Just like you did that first day we met. I almost swooned right then and there,” he admitted, nibbling delicately on Harvey’s lobe and relishing the sharp intake of breath it caused on Harvey’s part.

  
“Tell me the truth,” he sighed, voice like silk sheets slipping over bare skin, sending shivers down Harvey’s spine, “when I walked into that hotel suite six years ago, did you ever imagine we’d end up here, like this?“

  
"No,” Harvey replied frankly. “I guess I didn’t. But then…”

  
“But then what?”

  
“I knew you were trouble when you walked in. And I’ve always loved trouble.”

  
Mike smiled, warm and real and all Harvey had ever wanted.

  
“Harvey, did you … did you just tell me you love me?” Mike grinned, happier than he had ever thought possible. Eyes twinkling, the grin took on a mischievous quality as he joked, "And were you hearing Taylor Swift in your head when we kissed?”

  
Harvey huffed a laugh and pressed a kiss to Mike’s temple. “Yes, to the first.”

  
Mike smiled impossibly wider, impossibly brighter.

  
Harvey felt himself unable to resist smiling back. “And no, to the second. But I did hear music.”

  
“Oh? This should be good. Was it at least something released within my lifetime, old man?” Mike teased playfully, wrapping his arms tighter around Harvey’s neck, drawing him closer.

  
“No, wait, don’t tell me,” he said, thinking better of his previous statement, tone still teasing. “Let me guess. Jonas Brothers? Beiber? One Direction? Oh, sorry, did I touch a sore spot? Is it too soon? Is the 1D split still too raw for you?”

  
Oh, Mike was really enjoying himself now, Harvey could tell. He practically radiated glee. It was a sight Harvey knew he’d never tire of, and made all the better by the fact _he_ was the reason for Mike’s undisguised joy.

  
As for Mike himself, he knew he had a stupidly happy grin plastered all over his face, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He was done playing it cool. Being in the arms of the man you love, finally, after six long years of waiting, will have that effect, he supposed.

  
“If you really want to know, smartass, it sounded an awful lot like the 'Rocky’ theme,” Harvey shot back, enjoying the comfortable, familiar banter he and Mike had always engaged in, but feeling pretty damn stupidly happy himself at the thought of all the new things they would be engaging in from now on. Those kisses had been a _very_ promising start.

  
“Well, in that case…” Mike beamed, throwing his head back and yelling at the top of his lungs, “ADRIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!!!”

  
Harvey rolled his eyes and grimaced at the worst Stallone impression he had ever heard.  
"You still need to work on lowering your register there, Sly.”

  
“What?! That was an incredible Stallone!”

  
“Whatever, Balboa. I’ve only one thing to say to that.”

  
Mike raised both eyebrows questioningly. “And what might that be?”

  
“Ding, ding, seconds out, round three…” Harvey purred, dragging a more than willing Mike in for another kiss, feeling like he’d just been crowned champion of the world and knowing this relationship was going the distance.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Come say hello if you'd like, in the comments section or on tumblr, where I'm also known as novemberhush. Take care. :-)


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